Possessed
by ZsaZsitaLolita
Summary: Mr. Gold has ostracized himself from town society. He is alone again. He is the aging monster that cowers in its lair. The girl he once loved is gone, and he cannot bring her back. He retreats to the recesses of his mind, and his memories of her: his wise, wicked, and wonderful Little Belle. This story is not abandoned! I am working on multiple chapters for it.


Summary:

Mr. Gold has ostracized himself from town society. He is alone again. He is the aging monster that cowers in its lair. The girl he once loved is gone, and he cannot bring her back. He retreats to the recesses of his mind, and his memories of her: his wise, wicked, and wonderful Little Belle.

Author Notes:

I have rated this Explicit for safety. This story will evolve. Belle is 10 years old when she meets Mr. Gold and he is 46. No sexual acts will occur while Belle is still a "child." I have taken liberties with the nymphet definition as so defined by Nabokov in "Lolita" by Humbert Humbert. If the idea of Nymphet!Belle offends, please do not read. I want to thank those who encouraged me to write it when I feared negative feedback. You know who you are, dearies.

Mr. Gold was not the monster everyone believed him to be. He was simply an aging man that had suffered more than any of the happy residents in the quiet hamlet of Storybrooke could have imagined. He did not mind in the least that he was avoided and feared by most; the pawnbroker preferred his solitary lifestyle and the chance to torment the occasional patron to his shop of antiques.

And then there was her. Annabel French._ His little Belle_. She was the motherless child of Moe French, a man who had worked too often and had paid too little attention to his daughter. Mr. French had not an inkling of what his daughter really was. Mr. Gold knew what she was the first time she meandered into his shop. Annabel French was a nymphet.

Mr. Gold could still recall with perfect clarity the first time she had come into his shop, and into his life. For better or worse, to this day he could not decide.

**15 Years Ago**

Mr. Gold was in the back of his office cleaning a carved crystal bell he had just acquired. The door chimes jingled. "A moment if you please," he called out from behind the curtain. He began to get up when suddenly the curtain jostled. A large pair of cerulean eyes was smiling at him. Startled by the angelic creature, he gaped at her, his brow furrowed and his mouth open revealing crooked teeth.

Before he could protest the intruder began to speak – without any sense of decorum, rested her pale, thin arms on his work table – "What are you doing?" asked the small creature.

"I'm cleaning this bell," he motioned towards the bell with large elegant hands, "but you, Dearie," he pointed at her and sneered, "have interrupted me. Do you usually just go wandering into the back of shops? Do you not know what might happen to you?" She stared at him silently, bearing a seriousness beyond her years.

They examined each other. Gold took in the fairy-like creature's appearance: curling chestnut hair loose about her shoulders, creamy porcelain skin that made those blue eyes stand out like a patch of blue sky amidst endless yellow-white clouds. She seemed small and delicate, but didn't carry herself as if she were. "I like you, Mr. Gold." She smiled as she giggled. Still staring at her with apprehension, Gold couldn't help but notice how lovely the girl child was. "I am Annabel." She mimicked his motion to the crystal object and smiled and tossed her curls. Her sparkling laughter rang throughout the shop.

"Might I have the pleasure of knowing how you have come to know who I am, Miss Annabel?" Gold asked, his elbows resting on the table, his hands steepled. A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, surprising himself.

"I've been watching you, Mr. Gold. You come to my Papa's flower shop to collect the rent. Papa is afraid of you. But I'm not," she beamed at him, and Gold let out a rare chuckle, deep in his throat.

Mr. Gold raised an eyebrow and nodded in understanding while he said "Ah. I see. You are Moe French's girl. Why have I not seen you before, Miss French?" he asked as he realized he was actually enjoying the girl's company.

"Papa makes me hide when you come. He says you are dangerous and that I must 'Stay clear of that monster!', but I don't think you're a monster. I think you need a friend. I will be your friend."

Mr. Gold was utterly confused. Why did this child want to be his friend? "Miss French, what makes you think I need a friend?"

"Because you are always alone, like me. The other children call me strange; they say it's because I'm always reading. But I love to read, and I know so much more than they do. If we become friends, we won't have to be lonely anymore. Do you want to be friends, Mr. Gold?" asked Annabel, her pink, bow-shaped lips curled into a rather devious smile.

Gold's eyes darkened. Something primal and unknown awoken inside him. His eyes locked with the girl's – her bright eyes glinted with mischief – and as if he had fallen under a spell, Gold replied: "Of course, Dearie. If it would please you."


End file.
